Issues of concern to people who live in the west: property rights, water rights, endangered species, livestock grazing, energy production, wilderness and western agriculture. Plus a few items on western history, western literature and the sport of rodeo... Frank DuBois served as the NM Secretary of Agriculture from 1988 to 2003. DuBois is a former legislative assistant to a U.S. Senator, a Deputy Assistant Secretary of Interior, and is the founder of the DuBois Rodeo Scholarship.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Old dog memories

by Julie Carter

Out in the country everyone’s got a good horse story. That
favorite, best ever, never had another one like him kind of story. But better
than those, are the deep-felt recalls about an old dog that was the light of
their life.

Favorite dogs that we remember stories about aren’t limited
to rural living but it is often in the rural setting you find those special
canines in larger numbers. Acres of living space allows for an assorted
collection of the critters that accumulate before one realizes it.

At one time, my family had five of those absolutely
worthless bordering on stupid mutts and actually loved, fed and nurtured them
all.

Bridgett, a Saint Bernard, was quite the “nanny” of the
bunch, but did look a little out of place on a high desert cactus laden ranch
in New Mexico. Her most unpopular day was when she broke through the door
into the house to steal the roast off the counter that had been set out to
thaw.

Poppy and Puppy were the watch dog - guard dog committee.
They would bark at you until you were in the door, then Puppy would return to
his guard post while Poppy would stand and “smile” at you. She had a muzzle and
teeth that made her appear to be perpetually smiling.

Tiny was just that on a “compared to” basis. He was some
sort of terrier dog with great big “bug” eyes. There was nothing special about
Tiny except he was there. He had joined the herd of mutts that had been dropped
off or deserted only to find their way to a middle-of-nowhere ranch.

Then there was Rupert. Rupert was a small red
long-haired mutt that until his dying day thought it was his job to bark and
bite even when he was deaf, blind and had no teeth. He’d lie under the kitchen
table and when an unsuspecting guest would move their feet the wrong
direction, he’d make an attempt to “gum” their foot off. He was as
aggravating as he was comical.

There were more dogs after that; Jessie, Mike, Murphy and
Pepe among others. The point is, we all have memories of a special dog, be it
mutt or purebred.

We cuss them, love them, and call them names. And we miss them
more than we can explain when they are gone. They are doormats, babysitters,
guardians and companions. Often completely worthless pain in the rear buddies;
they mark a place in our hearts that lasts forever.

We identify a dog with his owner and vice versa. When we
lose a loved one, their dog is a cherished link to them in the days ahead. When
we then lose the dog it’s like losing the person all over again.

Dying peacefully of old age is the ultimate we can wish for
our pets. Rural living brings with it other dangers for them that can shorten
their life span including snake bite and predators. It’s hard to tell a dog
with a tendency to hunt to not be sniffing around the bushes because he might
find a diamond back rattler.

I’ve lost some pretty special dogs over the years that hurt
my heart so badly. And always, I swore I’d not get another one to avoid the
pain. Then somewhere along the way a roly-poly blue heeler puppy would catch my
eye and I’d cave to the cuteness.

And the cycle would begin again.

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com. And no, don’t send
me your puppies, blue heeler or otherwise.